


A Real Party

by SteveGarbage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, Seduction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-19 23:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteveGarbage/pseuds/SteveGarbage
Summary: “It’s not a real party until someone’s smallclothes are pinned to a Chantry board. And that’s all I’m saying about it.”





	1. Chapter 1

_ “The ball was… all right. Too many politicians. At midnight, Josie and I left to find a real party. We’ve been friends ever since.” _

_ “What do you consider a real party?” _

_ “It’s not a real party until someone’s smallclothes are pinned to a Chantry board. And that’s all I’m saying about it.” _

* * *

The Sister curtsied over and over with the same smooth, calculated grace to each of the guests.

Though she had been through hours of smalltalk with the nobles, merchants and Revered Mothers, Leliana’s smile had not dampened as she politely greeted and chatted cordially with all of the guests. The ball, although small, had been called in her honor, after all. Divine Justinia had called Sister Nightingale to Val Royeaux to fill a position at court in the Grand Cathedral. The details about what, exactly, that entailed had not been released by the Divine. Josephine knew about Leliana’s past, more than most, and no doubt that was why very little had been said by Justinia’s camp.

Despite the secretive nature of the appointment, Leliana was a friend, she was receiving an honor from the Chantry and the Antivan embassy had been quiet for far too long. Josephine had laid low since its last social event, an art showing that was a little more… risque than she had been informed of prior to the unveiling. What she had been told would be displayed and what actually showed up were quite different. She had scribbled out a very pointed letter to the artist’s patron the next day.

But Leliana’s arrival in Val Royeaux was excuse enough to call for a gathering. And from the look on Leliana’s face, she seemed to be enjoying herself. There were rumors that both Empress Celene and Divine Justinia might make an appearance. Neither had and the night was well past sunset; so far past that Josephine doubted either would arrive. Many of the nobles were reaching the same conclusion and the ballroom was rapidly thinning.

“It’s been a pleasure, Marquis Brevere,” she could hear Leliana say with a kind smile to the portly man. He clasped her hand, spewing a profuse string of compliments to her before letting her away. The Marquis was an astute player of the Game and he needed to size up the newest player. Josephine hoped, for his sake, that he did not underestimate Leliana. Her smile hid daggers.

Leliana glided across the floor in her direction, grabbing two glasses of white wine from a serving tray and passing one to Josephine as she neared. Her blue eyes sparkled like jewels underneath her mask in the soft light of the ballroom, a stark contrast to her short head of shimmering red hair. 

Her dress of white silk fit her body perfectly, the neckline plunging in a deep V, veiled by a very loosely knit decorative lace that still left plenty to see for wandering eyes. She had been a bard, once, and her perfect figure was as much of a weapon as the daggers she wielded. Even Josephine could not help but steal glances at Leliana, feeling quite inadequate in comparison.

Leliana’s skin was as smooth and delicate as porcelain, while Josephine’s darker Antivan complexion made her stand out in the wrong way inside of the fair-skinned Orlesian capital. Leliana’s hair had the exotic shade of rubies, while Josephine’s was a flat and uninteresting black. While Josephine worked for an hour to wash and style her hair for the formal setting, Leliana’s short and simple cut impressed with little effort. And Leliana had small, firm high breasts and subtle curves that bent in just the right way, while Josephine’s hips were wider than she cared for and she struggled to maintain her figure amidst mountains of rich Orlesian fare.

Leliana was the very picture of beauty, the perfect woman in her eyes. Josephine could not help but be a little envious.

“You look lovely tonight, Josie,” Leiliana said, if reading her mind. “I love your dress.”

It was nothing special. The apple-red dress was modestly cut, not too extravagant compared to most of the garb in Val Royeaux. It felt too tight around her hips. The conservative scooped neckline did allow her to wear her new string of pearls, which stood out in contrast to her olive skin.

“You’re the one who is turning heads,” Josephine conceded. She glanced down at Leliana’s feet, so light on her toes that it looked like she was hovering. “And those shoes! You must tell me where you get your shoes.”

Leliana chuckled and placed a single finger to her lips. “I’m afraid that is top secret information.”

For the first time tonight, Josephine could hear the string quartet that had been playing quietly in the corner of the ballroom. The guests had thinned so substantially, she could now see the walls across the dance floor, which had once been clogged with bodies. It was approaching midnight, after all, and while many balls and soirees did carry on well into the darkness, it appeared this event was doomed to an early closing.

She wondered if Captain Arturo Ancillari had left yet. Josephine had wanted a minute of his time to inform him of the good news that she had negotiated new docking privileges due to an increased demand for Rialto wines in the capital. She also hoped that the notorious womanizer hadn’t offended anyone too important tonight. That he was conspicuously missing was a bad sign.

Most of the cheese was still sitting on the cutting board mostly untouched. Josephine had thought it had smelled a bit off, and the fact that so little of it had been eaten only confirmed her suspicion. She would make sure not to deal with that particular seller again.

And Josephine turned her head as she caught the loud, boisterous laugh from the corner of the room, spotting one of her young staffers guffawing at something the dashing Comte Nicholas had said. The Comte was young and handsome and very suave and the young woman had been trailing him the entire night. Perhaps she thought she could be Comtess someday? If she was, she was fooling herself about her low birth. Josephine hoped that Nicholas was not hoping to take advantage of the drunk and naive girl tonight.

“I’m glad you’re back in Val Royeaux,” Josephine said to Leliana after swallowing down the scowl behind her mask. She had merely been a student and the University when her and Leliana used to run around town getting into trouble. Leliana, too, had led a very different life at the time under the guidance of her former mistress Marjolaine.

“And I’m glad you’re still here, Josie,” Leliana said, her fingers curling delicately up the sides of her wineglass as she lifted it to her lips. “Val Royeaux can be so dull sometimes.”

Leliana leaned down slightly toward Josephine, closer to her ear, and lowered her voice. “I miss the old days when we used to get into mischief,” Leliana whispered. “Perhaps you’d like to do something a little…  _ naughty…  _ tonight?”

Josephine nearly shivered at the thought. It had been fun and frivolous when she was just a student, dabbling in the Game a little bit. But she was the Antivan ambassador now.

“I don’t know,” Josephine said. “I really shouldn’t--”

“I promise it’s nothing too bad,” Leliana said, sensing her unease. “This was nice, but I’d like to take you to a real party tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

Josephine stood in front of the mirror, turning from side to side and frowning at how her hips stuck out in this particular dress.

Maybe this wasn’t the right one? The black dress was slim and form fitting except for the bottom, which flared out at the thighs and below. It was too tight for funerals, but too dressy for more casual outings. She couldn’t remember when or why she had this added to her wardrobe. As she looked at it, she couldn’t think of anywhere it would be appropriate to wear.

This dress wasn’t right, Josephine decided as she slipped the straps off of her shoulders and began to shimmy out of it, pushing the rigid boning past her waist and down to the floor. Perhaps something yellow? She always looked good in yellow.

Leliana hadn’t said where they were going or what they would be doing. After Josephine had made arrangements to for the embassy staff to clean up the ballroom -- and to send the drunken girl home with a severe admonishment and a promise they’d talk about her behavior tomorrow -- Leliana had told her to go change.

All Leliana had said was to pick out something “provocative.”

She had already gone through four dresses. Josephine wasn’t sure what exactly Leliana was suggesting and, furthermore, she wasn’t sure she had anything that the fit the description anyway. Even if she did, she doubted that she would be provoking anyone to look her way, not like Leliana at least.

Josephine pulled down the golden yellow silk dress and held it up to herself. She had purchased this one back in Antiva for the princess’ quinceanera at the palace. It was the middle of summer. The thin, backless dress was light and cool in the heat and it had a more flirtatious shape to it with deep slit up the leg and some underwire in the bust.

She had been a couple years younger when last she wore this one and maybe a little thinner. But, glancing at the dress in the mirror, it might be the closest thing she had to fulfilling Leliana’s direction. Josephine stepped into the dress and began to hike it up her legs, turning herself as she slipped the delicate fabric up past her hips. To her pleasant surprise, it still fit remarkably well, the light silk giving a little stretch as it slipped around her curves.

Josephine held the front close to her chest as she pivoted, looking at her hips again. She furrowed, still not satisfied, but prepared to settle that perhaps tonight was not the night that she would find anything that would please her in that respect. She reached into the front of the dress, adjusting her breasts into the cups of the dress and straightening the straps to tie the halter.

“That’s not going to do at all.”

Josephine jumped, startled, and fumbled to catch the front of the dress before it fell down or she fell out of it. She turned around to see Leliana marching toward her, her long, ivory legs stepping effortless on tall, dark heels.

Josephine instantly got a better definition of what Leliana had meant by provocative.

Leliana’s hair was perfectly parted and straight, looking almost a little wet in the way it moved on her head. She wore a thin, black ring of pencil around her eyes, with long, dark lashes. Her cheeks had just the slightest hue of blush and her lips were painted a vibrant red even bolder than her hair.

She wore black, a thin, straight, black shift dress. It was hung lightly on her shoulders, sleeveless, and it was very short at the mid-thigh. It hung so effortlessly on her, as if her shoulders were merely a delicate hanger holding it up in a boutique window.

But most of all, the dress was sheer. Very sheer. So sheer in fact that Josephine could mostly see through it. She could see the pinkish color of Leliana’s small nipples, the fair color of her skin and the shape of her breasts visible through the thin fabric. She could trace the curve of Leliana’s body and her abdomen, the dress only become opaque enough to block her view just as it crossed her waist. The only solid fabric was the black leather collar and shoulder pieces and the hemline at the very bottom.

Leliana carried a small black handbag in her right hand, golden bangles on both her wrists, and her delicate feet tucked into the sloping heels that belted with thin cords.

Josephine turned her head to the side, fumbling to hold the yellow silk over her chest. She could feel herself blushing.

“What’s the matter, Josie?” Leliana asked. The question sounded sincere, but she knew that Leliana was teasing her. She knew exactly what had happened.

“I can see right through that!” Josephine said, turning her eyes and looking again and, yes, still seeing the same amount of Leliana as she had at first glance.

Leliana smiled. “I told you we were going to find a real party,” she said. “If you’re embarrassed, I can change.”

“No,” Josephine said quickly. She didn’t want Leliana to have to go back, she thought. “No, it’s fine. It’s just…”

Leliana waited for the pause, then cocked yet head. “Yes?”

“It’s just… I don’t think I have anything in my closest quite like,” she looked at Leliana again, watching how the dress shifted as Leliana placed her hand on her hip and bent slightly to the side. Josephine swallowed. “That.”

Leliana’s face washed with the mischievous grin that Josephine remembered she used to get when they’d be prowling the streets of Val Royeaux causing trouble. Nothing good ever came of that grin.

“Let me see what you have,” Leliana declared, marching past Josephine and into the large closet.

Josephine watched as she passed. The heels were very tall, but Leliana walked on the toes and the thin heel without any effort. The elevation made the muscles in her legs taut, showing their graceful power. She could see the curves of Leliana’s back through the dress that was just as see-through in the rear.

Leliana glanced over the closet, flipping through garments, peeking up on the shelves and down at the floor. She tucked her handbag under her arm as she perused all of the options.

“You have such wonderful clothes,” Leliana commented as she peeked through the rack of dresses. “And this closet! I’m envious.”

Josephine peeked in, still holding the front of her dress up. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do. She obviously wasn’t wearing this, but she didn’t really have anything to change into while waiting.

“I really do need to get rid of some things,” Josephine said.

“Aha!” Leliana cried, pulling something off the rack. She had her back to Josephine, so she couldn’t see what had been selected. Leliana turned, turned, snatching another item and then quickly crouched, scooping up some shoes from off the floor.

She burst out of the closet as quickly as she had gone into it, presenting the pieces. “This.”

“I don’t think I can wear that,” Josephine said, scowling at the picks.

Leliana poked her head forward, taking a second look at what she had selected, then glancing back at her friend. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Josephine asked. “That is a corset that goes under some of my more elaborate ball gowns. That is a party skirt from Antiva. And those are my riding boots.”

Leliana looked again. “Yes, I know,” she said. “So what’s the issue? These will look amazing together. You’ll look like you’ve come straight from a lover’s encounter in Antiva City with a handsome rogue from the Crows.”

“More like I’m coming from a brothel on the docks in Rialto,” Josephine said as she rolled her eyes.

“I’d pay to get you in this, then get you out of this,” Leliana said, grinning that mischievous grin again.

Josephine looked at the outfit again and considered, then shook her head. “No, I couldn’t. Maybe this was a foolish idea.”

Leliana groaned. “Come on, Josie,” Leliana pleaded. “It will be fun. I promise. Downtown Val Royeaux is so uptight, you need to relax once in awhile.”

“I don’t know--”

“Please,” Leliana said sweetly, now batting her eyelashes and looking timid and holding out the clothes once more. “For me?”

In an instant, Leliana had gone from confidently sly to adorably submissive. She had those puppy dog eyes and her whole posture had changed. Soft. Sweet. No wonder she had excelled at manipulating people as a bard.

“No one is going to find out?” Josephine surrendered, extending her hand.

Leliana thrust the clothes into her open palm immediately. “It will all be fine, I promise,” Leliana said. “This is going to be great.”

“Now let’s get you out of that silk,” Leliana said as she began to tug the dress of Josephine before she could even protest.


	3. Chapter 3

They stopped outside a rather dingy looking warehouse a few blocks from the waterfront. 

Two oil lamps were burning in the alley. A single door. One very large man standing outside. Elsewhere on the docks it was dark. This definitely wasn’t a part of the city that Josephine usually, well, ever, found herself. She glanced around, half expecting to get mugged.

Or worse. 

Her chest was nearly bursting out of the top of the corset. Leliana had given her a golden collar necklace to wear. The ruffled, crimson Antivan skirt was longer in the back but very short in the front, leaving plenty of leg exposed until hitting the lip of her black knee-high boots. When she had looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t look half as clean and chic as Leliana. But she did have to admit, the outfit did smack of the some of the heroines you might find painted on the covers of racy romance books.

Still, she felt out of place and exposed here. Where were they going? There was nothing down here except for storehouses, waterside shops, manufacturers and slaughterhouses.

“Good evening, ladies,” the burly man said with a slight, courteous dip of his head. He was wearing a cudgel at his hip, and although he had an overcoat on, Josephine could see the glint of armor beneath it. He crossed his arms, blocking the door.

“Good evening,” Leliana said, opening her small, black handbag. She reached in, pulling out small golden key with a white ribbon tied in a bow around the shaft. She held it up to show it to the man briefly, before placing it in his outstretched palm.  _ “ _ _ L'or force le verrou. _ ”

“ _ Qui ne risque rien n'a rien,”  _ the man said with a smile, tucking the golden key into a pocket and tapping his fist behind him on the door twice, a short pause, and then once more. Josephine could hear bolts behind pulled back and the door cracked out. As it did, the muffled sound of music and loud chatter slipped through the crack. The guard pushed the door open enough for them to step in and motioned with his hand to enter. “Enjoy, ladies.”

Once inside, a second man inside quickly shut the door behind them and bolted it once more. A third stepped forward, holding a bright lamp and extended a hand.

“Welcome, madams,” he said in a thick Orlesian. “I shall take you below. Please be mindful of the steps. If you require a hand, madam?” The last line he spoke to Leliana after giving a quick glance down at her feet.

Leliana waved off the offer. “I can manage. I’m familiar with the steps.” Obviously, Leliana had been here before.

“Very good, madam,” he said. “Please, follow me.”

The guide began to step down and Leliana and Josephine followed behind. The lantern lit the stairs so they could see, although the spiralizing staircase seemed to get brighter the lower they went.

“Is this a brothel?” Josephine whispered as she heard the laughter of women below as well as deep, boisterous voices of men.

“No,” Leliana said. Josephine sighed in relief. But then Leliana continued, “Not exactly. Not like you’re thinking. Why, Josie? Are you looking for company tonight?”

“What? No!” Josephine responded quickly, perhaps too loudly.

Their Orlesian guide chuckled in front of them overhearing the exchange. “Your first time, madam?”

“Yes,” Leliana answered for her.

“Then you are in for a treat,” he said, turning his head slightly and smiling back at Josephine.

As the staircase terminated, they came into the large underground hall. Josephine gazed around, shocked at the scene she was taking in.

The circular room was mostly full, with several richly dressed men and women lounging around on richly padded couches and chairs. To her surprise, she recognized some of the people here. Nobility. Chantry. She spotted the portly Marquis Brevere sitting on one of the couches, speaking softly with another masked noble as a young shirtless man rubbed his shoulders while another was pouring him wine.

She spotted some of the women in the room who were dressed just as provocatively as Leliana, and a few who were wearing things even more skimpy and scandalous. The notion made Josephine feel slightly less self-conscious about spilling out of the corset and the teasing hemline at the front of her skirt.

And then she took notice of the servers, who were barely wearing anything at all. Both the women and men were topless and bedecked in gold and jewels. The men wore short wraps around their waists. The women wore small undergarments with sheer, short sarongs wrapped and pinned.

The room was filled with the smell of rich food and she could see wine and liquor everywhere, as well as a few people smoking what she guessed was probably something illegal from pipes.

All of it was built around a central pit that was empty at the moment. While the outside of the building appeared to be just another storehouse, underneath it all was an extremely opulent, underground, likely illegal, sporting ring.

“Can we sit there?” Leliana said with a smile, pointing to an empty ringside table with one hand as she dropped a few golden bits into the palm of their guide.

“Yes, of course, madam,” he said, quickly slipping the bars into his pocket and leading them around the ring to the other side of the room.

Josephine continued to glance around the room, noticing several more faces she recognized. The wealthy dowager Duchess d’Tureau was here, sitting on a chair across from another older gentleman she didn’t know. Commander Marcelle Wimelle was here with a teenaged boy whom she could only assume was his son; each of them had a woman draped across their laps. And as they came to their table, she noticed the man at the table next to her as Knight-Lieutenant Rayan Pirout, a young but highly respected and ranking member in the personal guard of Divinie Justinia.

Pirout gave a nod and stood, pulling out the chair for Leliana as their porter pulled out the seat of Josephine.

“Sister Nightingale,” Pirout said. “I did not expect to find you at a place such as this.”

Leliana thanked him as she sat. “Nor I, you, Rayan.”

The Knight-Lieutenant glanced over at Josephine, his eyes quickly darting her over, although lingering just a moment longer as he glanced at her breast. “My apologies, I don’t believe I’ve met your friend.”

“Josephine Montilyet,” she said, extending her hand, which he took in his and planted a soft kiss of greeting upon it. “A pleasure, Knight-Lieutenant.”

Rayan glanced back at Leliana. “It appears she recognizes my face,” he said, with a smile. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage, my lady.”

Leliana glanced across the table at Josephine, a slight nod, just to let her know that it was safe to be herself. The Game was being played here, Josephine knew, but she didn’t know the rules or the stakes in this particular den. But she could trust Leliana’s judgment. As a former bard, she played better than Josephine could or wanted to.

“My apologies, ser,” Josephine said neatly. “I’m the Antivan Ambassador. We’ve never met in person, but I knew of you by association. I believe you were at the Divine’s side during the recent summer faire?”

“That I was, Lady Montilyet,” Rayan said. “Very astute. I am pleased to make your acquaintance in the flesh.”

“You may join us, if you wish,” Leliana said, offering an empty seat to him.

“I appreciate the offer, but I am expecting someone,” Rayan said.

“A lady, perhaps?” Leliana asked. And now she was playing the Game. Josephine could see it in the slight way her eyes narrowed and that grin began to creep at the corner of her lip.

“Of course not, Sister,” Rayan said, with a slight sarcasm and smile. “That would be against regulations of the Order.”

“It’s good to see you again, Rayan,” Leliana said, brushing the edge of the hair on the right side of her face back slightly as she turned her left shoulder coyishly. The Templar took notice.

“Welcome back to Val Royeaux,” the knight agreed and returned to his table.

Leliana flagged down one of the serving girls, a tall, thin, but very striking elf girl with black hair and exchanged a few words. Her body was narrow, but her hips still swayed from side to side and her small chest was firm as she lifted the silver tray above her head with one palm.

“I don’t know I should be here,” Josephine said, still glancing nervously around the room. “I am Antiva’s representative to the Empire, after all.”

“Oh don’t worry Josie,” Leliana said. “You were never here. I was never here. None of these people were here. Here doesn’t even exist. Those are the rules.”

“But--”

“And you’re my guest,” Leliana said. “Which means you under my protection. There are many bards here, but they all understand and respect the rules, or else they’re not bards for very long.”

A chill ran through Josephine at the thought. How many of the other women here played the Game like Leliana had? She didn’t know much about Leliana’s past, but she knew enough to know that it had its fair share of bloodshed in it. She had been betrayed by her former mistress, but the fact that she was still alive spoke volumes to her abilities.

Josephine sighed and allowed herself to sink into the cushioned chair slightly. The elf girl returned with a glass carafe and two short glasses. She lowered them down on the table and poured some of the purple liquid into each of the glasses. “Violet Dew, my ladies, at your request.” Apparently this was the drink that Leliana had ordered for them? She had never seen anything like it. It was too thin and translucent to be wine, with its faint purple hue.

Josephine glanced at the serving girl again, peeking at the tiny, thin undergarment she wore and glancing up the girl’s flat stomach. She wore a small gold and amethyst pendant in her belly button and her chest had the small gentle curves of nubility. She wore very dark purple and black cosmetic around her eyes and several earrings in each of her upward-sloping, pointed ears.

“See something you like, Josephine?” Leliana said, obviously noticing that she was staring.

Josephine blushed immediately. She hated being teased by Leliana and she was looking too long. “No,” she hurriedly said. “No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Leliana asked again. “My treat.”

“No, please. That will be all,” Josephine said to the elf girl, shooing her away.

Leliana chuckled as she lifted one of the glasses and handed the other to Josephine. Now Leliana was the one glancing, indiscreetly looking Josephine up and down, turning her head as eyes wandered all over her body.

“What’s wrong?” Josephine asked.

“Nothing,” Leliana said, her lips tense and her eyes alight. “Only that you look very beautiful.”

“Don’t be silly,” Josephine said. “They’re looking at you.”

“Not Ser Rayan,” Leliana said. “And not those men,” she added, moving her eyes to the left discreetly. Josephine glanced in that direction, indeed spotting too older nobles who were taking advantage of their higher seat to gaze down the front of her corset. She quickly turned her eyes back.

Josephine shook her head and sniffed her glass. “So what is this place, anyway?”

Leliana clinked her glass against Josephine’s and grinned. That mischievous grin once more.

“You’ll see.”


	4. Chapter 4

“Go ahead, Josie. He’s not going to bite you,” Leliana urged as she dipped her hand into the bucket of warm oil and reached down for the man’s dangling cock.

“Not very hard, at least, my lady,” the brown-skinned Antivan man said as he raised an eyebrow as Leliana’s hand slipped around his manhood and gave it a gentle, slow stroke. “Unless _cariñito_ would prefer a rougher nibble.”

The ring, Leliana had explained, could be used for many sporting events. Some nights there were melees or knife fights. No killing, though, just a little bloodsport. Some nights there was music or theatre. Sometimes serious, dramatic pieces. Sometimes bawdy shows. And then some nights there were more carnal shows. Leliana hadn’t elaborated and Josephine hadn’t asked her to.

But tonight, tonight was men’s wrestling.

Leliana had failed to mention though that the men were wrestling nude. And that there would be oil. And that touching was not only allowed but encouraged. The event was meant to be up close and personal and as hands-on as the patrons wanted.

Josephine could see that this man, who they called the “Antivan Viper” that seemed fitting due to his endowment, was growing stiff in Leliana’s hand. But he was hardly paying any attention to her and she didn’t seem to care. His hands were resting on the lip of the short wall, his coal-dark eyes staring at Josephine instead. One countryman to another.

“ _Mi amor_ , you are much too beautiful to be this timid,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand lightly in his. But he didn’t pull, only guided it to the bucket. Josephine dipped her hand down, covering her fingers in the viscous oil. He guided her back out and lifted her fingers toward his chest, placing her hand over his heart.

She could feel the hard pillow of muscle in his chest as she began to wipe the oil across his chest, her fingers crossing over his dark nipple and across the ridges of his chest. Leliana removed her hand, leaving the man half-flaccid, half-hard and held her hand out for the attending servant who wiped it down with a towel.

“I do not see many Antivans in Val Royeaux,” the Viper said with a contented exhale as her fingers ran across his chest. He clasped his hands behind his back, which only served to tighten the muscles of his chest. “And I never see any Orlesians half as beautiful as you.”

“That is very flattering from a man who makes his money on wagers,” Josephine said.

“Ah, _belleza_ is very sharp as well as very fair,” the Viper said with a sly smile. “But you should wager on me. Because I cannot lose.”

“Is that so?” Josephine asked, her fingers trailing a little lower down the ridges of his abdomen. He was very well built, but his opponent, the blonde-haired “Lion of Orlais” appeared much thicker and stronger, especially in the shoulders and chest. He was not nearly as long as the Viper, but Josephine didn’t think that mattered much in wrestling.

The announcer introducing the bout had also noted that the Viper was new, in his inaugural match in the ring here, while the Lion was a regular participant. That didn’t bode well.

Her head was swimming from just a single glass of the violet liquor that tasted of grapes and was incredibly smooth going down, but apparently also incredibly potent. Leliana had warned her not to drink it too quickly. She didn’t think she was. She had only had one glass, afterall.

“Yes,” the Viper assured her. “I’m very nimble. And limber.”

“He looks very strong,” Josephine said as the tip of her index finger brushed across the ridge of his hip bone.

The Viper leaned forward a little bit, pushing his pelvis closer to her but keeping his eyes off of her wandering hand. “Yes, and that is what all of these other people are thinking as well. But strength is not everything. You will be sure to get good odds and a good payout when I win.”

“And if you don’t win?” Josephine said, as her hand slipped on the inside of his thigh and up underneath his manhood.

The Viper grunted as her fingers lightly ran down the length of his manhood. He swallowed. “Then _belleza_ can punish me, if she likes.”

Josephine wrapped her fingers around his girth and gave a squeeze, feeling the quick rigidity that was spreading through him. As suddenly as she had grabbed, she released her hold on him and presented her hand to the servant with the towel, who began to wash and wipe the oil off her hand. With her other hand, she motioned over her shoulder as she had seen some of the other patrons do. A servant quickly rushed to her side.

“What are the odds on the Viper?” she asked.

“Two to one on the Lion. Five to one on the Viper, my lady,” the servant said. “But just for you, my lady, I will give six to one if you wish to wager on this man.”

The Viper returned an appreciative nod as the servant finished wiping her hand.

“Then I shall wager fifty crowns on the Viper,” she said. The servant scratched the wager down on his tablet with thanks.

He continued around to the next table, Josephine taking note of his strong backside as he turned. Josephine bit the tip of her finger as she watched the stunning young woman who had joined Knight-Lieutenant Rayan dip her fingers into the bucket of oil and begin to rub the Viper’s shoulder. Had she really just bet fifty crowns on this man? That was money that could be spent in so many better ways that throwing at some sugar-spewing scoundrel, no matter how, ahem, well-armed he was.

She glanced over at her empty glass that had held the sweet liquor. It was clearly its fault that she was in this predicament now. Had she really fondled him? Maker, what would happen to her if someone found out? She was the ambassador!

“You’re always so tense,” Leliana said quietly into her ear as her hands appeared on Josephine’s bare shoulders, still slightly slick from the oil even though the servants had wiped her fingers.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” she answered, placing her fingers against her forehead.

“Oh don’t be silly, Josie,” Leliana said, her fingers working gently into the thicket of tight muscles around her neck. “It’s just a little harmless fun. I remember the days when giving you a single bottle of red wine was all we needed to have a good time.”

Despite being raised in Antiva on dry wine, Josephine never could handle the richer, sweeter wines in Orlais in her youth. She had embarrassed herself numerous times over when given a bottle all to herself.

“Don’t remind--”

“Shhh, shhh. Just relax,” Leliana cut her off as she ran her palms up the sides of Josephine’s neck. It did feel divine, the light pressure sending tingling sensations through her nerves that she almost felt the urge to shiver.

“It does feel nice,” she confessed.

“And Ser Rayan still can’t take his eyes off you,” Leliana whispered.

Josephine opened her eyes and looked in his direction immediately and without any semblance of discretion. She did catch his eye. He didn’t make much effort to look away, only raising his glass slightly enough to make her turn her gaze. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Nonsense,” Leliana disagreed. “He wishes it was his hands on you and not mine.”

Josephine was pretty sure she was already blushing, from the liquor and the heat and the Viper and from Rayan’s attentions, but if she wasn’t, she was sure she was now. She nearly yelped as she felt the lightest touch of what had to be Leliana’s lips on the back of her neck, before the sister’s hands pulled away from her neck.

If she did, it was masked by the rising sound of chatter as the lamps dimmed and the servants exited the ring for the wrestling match to begin. A masked official greeted both men in the center of the dirt ring, explaining a few things in conversation that was too quiet for anyone sitting around the ring to hear in the increasing din, before they shook hands and stepped away from one another.

With the drop of the officials arm, the two men clashed in the center of the ring, locking arms and shoulders and their bare feet dug into the sand to brace. Their hands clasped, arms locking against each other as they spun and shoved, testing each other.

Josephine watched as they twirled in this fierce, masculine dance, the muscles on their naked bodies taut and flexing from head to toe with each careful movement. It was almost impossible also to not watch the swinging between their legs, even despite all of the actual action happening above the waist.

As if reading her mind once again, Leliana began to explain. “Grips below the waist and legs are not allowed,” she said. “A competitor can win by fall if he is able to hold both of his opponent shoulders to the ground.”

“And how are they supposed to do that, if they can’t grab their legs?” Josephine asked.

Leliana was quiet for a moment as she watched the men circling and engaging once again, the Lion’s hands moving in, gaining a position and slipping down toward the Viper’s waist. “Like,” she said, pausing another second longer. “This.”

Almost on cue, the Lion successfully locked his arms around the Viper’s waist and with a heaving jerk, begin to tip backward, pulling the Antivan man off his feet. As they both fell backward, the Lion bent at the waist, arching his back as he slammed the smaller Antivan to the ground in a fierce throw that brought a round of raucous approval from the crowd.

A moment later they were on the ground, bodies scraping across each other as they fought for position in the dirt, legs kicking, arms continually moving, backs and shoulders twisted in a conjoined ball of muscles.

The official was raising fingers, noting off points, none that appeared to be going in favor of her wrestler from what she could understand from the scorecards being kept on the far side of the ring.

“I should have known the bigger man would be better,” Josephine lamented, picturing her fifty crowns dropping into another man’s pockets.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” Leliana said, her eyes darting back and forth between the men as they rose to their feet and resumed their previous grappling. “He lost the exchange, but for being on the wrong end of a throw, he handled it quite deftly.”

The two men twisted a while longer before they were stopped by the official and separated, retreating to opposite sides of the ring for a short break. From what Josephine could tell, the Viper was down by a score of four to zero.

As servants in the ring began wiping the dirt off the oiled, sweaty men in the ring, more buzzed around in the stands, barking updated odds and taking more wagers. The Viper migrated in their direction, hands on his hips as he huffed for breath and approached the two women.

“Are you enjoying the show, _cariñita_?” the Viper asked.

“You’re losing me a fair bit of coin,” Josephine said rather coolly in response. “I’m rather dissatisfied with your performance.”

“ _Mi amor_ ,” the Viper said with a chuckle, “on the contrary, I am about to win you very much money.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You wound me, _mi cariño,_ ” the Viper said as the he raised his arms above his head so the servant could wipe his flank. As he moved, the muscles in his chest all seemed to present themselves at once. “I have this man right where I want him. I shall have this bout won within a few moments.”

The servant who had taken Josephine’s bet earlier came back to their tableside. “Madam, would you care to place another wager?”

She looked at the Viper, who was smirking confidently. “No, I think not.”

“Oh _pochola,_ you are making a grave error,” he protested. “My word, _mi cieltio_ , if I do not win this bout, I shall refund your coin myself and, furthermore, surrender myself completely to your service, however you see fit, until I repay the error of misplacing your most humble trust.”

“And what would I do with the service of a scoundrel like you?” Josephine asked, her voice trailing off as the servant attending to the Viper wiped clean and began to re-oil around his groin.

The Viper merely glanced downward, then back up to her and shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you desire. I am a very talented man.”

“What are the new odds?” Josephine asked to the bet-taker without looking at him, even as she narrowed her eyes at the Viper.

“Eight to one on the Viper. Even on the Lion now, madam.”

Josephine allowed herself a small smirk. “Then another hundred on the Viper.”

If he were a man true to his word and lost, let him be beggared to her, for a time. And if he were merely a sweet-tongued liar as she should have regarded him, well, it would be a much stronger lesson to herself about the dangers of drinking and gambling.

The Viper bowed his head in appreciation. “ _Mi amor,_ I will make you a very wealthy woman.”

As he was ushered back toward the center of the ring, Leliana leaned in. “You must be very smitten with him,” she teased.

Josephine could not help watching the tight muscles of his rear as he marched back into position, and the subtle swinging that could be seen between his well-oiled bronze legs. She picked up her glass from the side table and held it out to Leliana as she rolled her eyes once more.

Leliana quietly obliged, tipping the carafe of violet liquor and splashing a little more into the ambassador’s glass. Josephine quickly brought it to her lips and sipped, fairly certain she would regret doing so later.

The official dropped his hand and the wrestlers grappled again, hands and arms locking against each other. They circled a bit, much the same as they had before, the larger, stronger Orlesian man looking very much in control.

Josephine brought her glass up again toward her mouth, but stopped as the Viper stepped back out of the grapple. He circled around, until he was facing Josephine. She noticed as he looked up toward her, just momentarily, then winked.

A split second later, he was leaping into the air.

He pressed his hands onto the Lion’s shoulders and quickly vaulted up and over, catching the Orlesian by surprise. As he went over the man’s head, his arms slid down the Lion’s flanks. He twisted in mid-air, his arms locking around the Lion’s torso as his feet nearly struck the ground. With his momentum, he yanked the larger man off his feet, whirling him through the air, rotating, until he threw the Lion down into the dirt, pressing his shoulders firmly into the sand.

“Pin!” the official shouted.

Josephine was out of her seat, screaming before she even realized it, half of the glass of liquor splashing out of the cup as she shot out of the chair. Had that actually just happened? He had flown through the air so fast, so quick almost like a, well, like a namesake viper!

The official held the Viper’s arm over his head to signal the win as the Antiva man smirked widely and began to trot a victory lap around the ring until he came to the wall in front of Josephine. The man jumped up, pressing his palms on the top of the wall and holding himself in place, leaning his face forward until it was only a inch away from hers.

“See, _mi amor_?” he said, still wearing that arrogantly pleased smirk, making what must have been considerable effort to both hold himself in place with only the strength of his shoulders and not to avert his gaze to glance down her corset.

“I always make sure a beautiful woman leaves satisfied.”


End file.
